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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619998">Ink And Petals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepetulantpen/pseuds/thepetulantpen'>thepetulantpen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Flower Shop &amp; Tattoo Parlor, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Modern AU, fast burn? is that a thing?, literally the opposite of slow burn, past ger/yen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:53:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,971</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25619998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepetulantpen/pseuds/thepetulantpen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Geralt runs a flower shop, right next door to Jaskier's tattoo parlor. </p>
<p>(That's it, that's the fic.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>289</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Ink And Petals</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’ve never once thought it was odd that you’re next door to a tattoo parlor?”</p>
<p>It’s the third time Geralt’s heard that question- and it’s not the last time he’ll ignore it entirely. He hasn’t figured out Yennefer’s ulterior motive in getting him to check out the tattoo shop, but he’s probably better off not finding out. </p>
<p>“No. You want your usual?”</p>
<p>Yennefer huffs and leans on the counter. “Do I have to buy something every time I desire your company?”</p>
<p>“If it’s during business hours, yes.” Geralt turns, producing a bouquet of lilacs, violets and a number of other purple flowers. “Do you want it or not?”</p>
<p>“You already had it ready for me? So sweet.”</p>
<p>Geralt hums and opens the register expectantly. “And it would be a shame for you not to pay me, after all my thoughtfulness.”</p>
<p>She slides the money toward him with unnecessary seriousness- and an equally unnecessary tip. He’s past the point of complaining; honestly, he puts up with enough from her that he deserves it. </p>
<p>“I suppose it’s only right to pay top dollar for such a masterpiece.”</p>
<p>“I’m not sure whether the other customers should thank you for taking away such an atrocity, or curse you for buying out every purple flower I have.”</p>
<p>Yennefer’s grin turns wicked, a glint of a knife before a strike. “What other customers?”</p>
<p>The flower shop isn’t as empty as it used to be, but Yennefer insists he’s driving people away with his scowl- which is counterintuitive, as pointing it out only makes him scowl more. It’s fine- he makes enough to get by, and he doesn’t need anything else. If anything, the lack of customers- people he has to talk to- is a blessing. </p>
<p>“Relax,” Yennefer smiles and pats his cheek, “I’m just teasing. But really, with all this extra time you should... explore.”</p>
<p>“Explore?”</p>
<p>“The tattoo shop next door! Just think, it must be filled with interesting people, people for you to make friends with.” Yennefer takes her flowers and holds up a hand before Geralt can respond. “Don’t give me any nonsense about not needing friends. You’re lonely, Geralt.”</p>
<p>“I’m not—"</p>
<p>“Flowers don’t count as company. Just think about it, ok?”</p>
<p>And she’s gone, taking the scent of lilac with her. </p>
<p>Geralt goes back to watering, and tries to forget about the tattoo shop. </p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Of the few customers he gets, Geralt doesn’t see much variety. The vast majority are rushed, forgetful boyfriends. Or repentant boyfriends. A handful of girlfriends, a few older people shopping for an occasion. And Yennefer, of course.</p>
<p>The man who walks in on Thursday morning does not fit in any of those categories. </p>
<p>Tousled brown hair, striking blue eyes- all irrelevant details, outshined by the tattoos across nearly every available surface. Full sleeves, designs stretching over the bit of exposed chest. Winding up his neck, and the sides of his face. A flower curls on his right temple, and a series of music notes over his left cheek. </p>
<p>Somehow even more attention-grabbing is his smile, bright and wide and seemingly producing its own light. He strides up to the counter when he sees Geralt, sticking out a hand that Geralt hesitantly takes. </p>
<p>“I’m Jaskier!” He shakes Geralt’s hand, with more fervor than appropriate. “I run the shop next door.”</p>
<p>Geralt must make a face, because Jaskier is suddenly leaning even closer, excited. “Have you heard of me? I released an album last-“</p>
<p>“No. It’s just an odd name-“ Geralt cuts himself off and rephrases, “I mean, Buttercup is an interesting choice.”</p>
<p>Jaskier grins, a little surprised. “Not many people catch that! But then, it’s your profession, I should expect you to be an expert on those sorts of things.”</p>
<p>Geralt <em>is</em> an expert- but it’s not something he lets on easily. Mostly, he doesn’t talk enough to get on the topic of specific flower trivia and etymology, but the rest of the time, he tries not to come on too strong. Surprisingly, <em>florist</em> is not always synonymous with <em>flower nerd</em> (as Yennefer has taken to calling him). </p>
<p>He just shrugs, which Jaskier accepts with not even a pause for breath. </p>
<p>“<em>Anyway</em>, as I was saying, I work next door, as a tattoo artist,” he gestures to his tattoos- that is, to his whole body, “Shocking, I know. But I also release my own music- which, ok, also isn’t very surprising.”</p>
<p>“Did Yennefer put you up to this?”</p>
<p>“Who? No.” Jaskier doesn’t look overly concerned by the interruption. “I’ve just- it’s been <em>suggested </em>that I need to spruce up our lobby. More decoration, something pleasant like flowers. Which is where you come in, I hope.”</p>
<p>That answers a couple of questions, and raises several more. Whether Yennefer is trying to set him up, or make him socialize, or is just doing this because she thinks it’ll be funny is a mystery to him- but it doesn’t matter, in the end. This is a perfect out; just a customer, just an order. </p>
<p>Jaskier is waiting patiently, fiddling with business cards while Geralt stares at him. When Geralt shifts, he looks up expectantly, face lighting up at the attention. </p>
<p>“What do you have in mind?”</p>
<p>“Something bright! I like yellow.” The flower on his face crinkles slightly with his smile lines. “It has to smell good, and be generally inoffensive to clients. I, uh, don’t know a lot about flowers.”</p>
<p>“Most people don’t.” </p>
<p>Yennefer would tell him off for saying things like that- she claims it drives away customers- but Jaskier grins even wider, if that’s possible. </p>
<p>“Oh, good. You can help me, then? I’m thinking two bouquets for the front desk, and we’ll see how that goes.”</p>
<p>Jaskier insists on waiting while Geralt does his arrangements, exploring the store and all the flowers thoroughly. Geralt can hear him reading out names to himself and repeating them- memorizing them. To what end, he doesn’t know. Artist types are always doing weird things- Geralt tries not to read into it, to save himself a headache. </p>
<p>It ends up being a pretty simple arrangement- Geralt figures Jaskier wouldn’t know the difference, even if he did put more effort into it- so he’s done by the time Jaskier finishes his slow lap of the store. Jaskier grabs the flowers and inhales deeply, taking in the mild scent. </p>
<p>“Oh, these are <em>lovely</em>. Truly beautiful work, thank you.”</p>
<p>If it were anyone else, Geralt would say they were overexaggerating to irritate him, but he gets the impression that Jaskier has a flair for the dramatic. He does and says everything with a theatrical air, constantly performing. If the tattoos hadn’t given it away, Geralt could’ve guessed he was a musician- the type that needs a stage to feel seen.</p>
<p>He tips well, at least. Almost too generously, but he smiles, genuine, so Geralt lets it go. </p>
<p>“I’ll be returning for all my future flower needs.” Jaskier winks, which pulls at the music notes. “Of which I’m sure I’ll find <em>many</em>.”</p>
<p>Geralt doesn’t know what that’s supposed to mean. It doesn’t <em>sound</em> sarcastic- maybe it’s just a Jaskier thing, spouting nonsense when nothing needs to be said at all. </p>
<p>He realizes, with horrifying certainty, that he may discover many <em>Jaskier things</em> if he really intends to visit often. For his flower needs. </p>
<p>Why are all (all two) of his regular customers so fucking weird?</p>
<p>Geralt hums, for lack of anything else to say, and Jaskier smiles, like he’d said something inspiring.</p>
<p>He’s left to sit at the counter for the rest of the day, half-expecting Jaskier to wander back in, looking for more conversation.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Jaskier only makes it a week before he finds an excuse to visit Geralt again. His curiosity has been a driving force in his life so far, and Geralt is a very intriguing man. </p>
<p>And attractive- unfairly attractive, some might say. </p>
<p>When he arrives, Geralt is lurking in the rows of flowers, misting them with a little spray bottle. It’s hilarious to see a man as big and intimidating as Geralt watering flowers, but it’s... sweet, too. He clearly cares- an artist in his own right. </p>
<p>“Geralt, my new friend,” Jaskier greets, and ignores Geralt’s unhidden skepticism. They’ll get there. “I need flowers.”</p>
<p>“I have flowers,” he deadpans, in a way that should not be funny, but definitely is. </p>
<p>“Excellent.” Jaskier steps up to him and points to the nearest flower. A pretty purple thing- lupine? He thinks he read its tag last time. “Tell me about this one.”</p>
<p>Geralt raises an eyebrow- unstoppable force- at Jaskier’s smile- immovable object. “Why?”</p>
<p>“I’m just curious.”</p>
<p>Geralt sighs, put upon, and looks very much like he’d prefer curiosity be eradicated altogether, but taps the nameplate. “Lupine. The wolf flower, named after the belief that it would destroy the soil. It’s part of the pea family.”</p>
<p>He delivers it as dryly as possible but Jaskier sees through him- if he knows that many facts, just off the top of his head, he <em>must</em> enjoy them. Jaskier points to another flower- another purple one, the whole store is color-coded. </p>
<p>“What about that one?”</p>
<p>“You can read, can’t you?” Geralt crosses his arms. “Why the sudden interest? You taking up gardening?”</p>
<p>“Maybe.” He grins- aiming for charming, rather than overly flirtatious, and lets his voice do the rest of the work. “Maybe I just like to hear you talk shop.”</p>
<p>Geralt makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and a hum- there <em>is</em> a difference, Jaskier is starting to learn- but starts anyway, giving Jaskier short, informative descriptions of every flower he points out. He also gives him gardening tips- which Jaskier does not need, as his apartment is too small for even houseplants- and delves briefly into the basics of flower language, though, as he informed Jaskier with barely disguised disdain, “They all mean the same thing: they’re nice to look at it. Nobody cares if they represent unconditional love, or just regular love.”</p>
<p>It’s fascinating, to say the least. At face value, Geralt presents everything with the same plain facts you could read off a google search, but his little amused smile when Jaskier asks a dumb follow up question or the subtle, blink-and-you-miss-them deadpan jokes make a world of difference. </p>
<p>They end up pacing the store for an hour, Jaskier providing color commentary as Geralt silently goes about the maintenance of flowers. It’s only broken up by an alarm going off on Jaskier’s phone, reminding him that he has an appointment soon, and that he did actually want to get flowers. </p>
<p>“I look forward to a pop quiz about etymology next time I’m around, but I need to get going. Think you could get me some flowers?”</p>
<p>Geralt blinks, like he’d forgotten that was the original purpose of this visit. Jaskier has that effect on people- one of his many talents is derailing trains of thought. </p>
<p>“What’re you looking for?”</p>
<p><em>Shit</em>. Jaskier spent the entire night googling flowers and reading Wikipedia pages, planning out an impressive bouquet that would show off all his newfound knowledge, but between the amount of flowers he’s seen today and the fact that he didn’t write anything down, he can’t remember a single part. Geralt is staring at him expectantly, so he smiles, like this was all part of the plan. </p>
<p>“Something with my namesake, I think, but with different colors this time. Bright, um...”</p>
<p>“Is this for an occasion? A special someone?” From anyone else, that might’ve been a come-on, but Geralt asks it so evenly, just gathering information. </p>
<p>“Nope,” Jaskier answers, too quickly. Too eagerly, but subtlety isn’t his style. “Just like to treat myself to flowers, that’s all.”</p>
<p>His phone goes off again. Technically, he has plenty of time, since it’s just next door, and he’s his own boss, but-</p>
<p>Geralt nods and turns back to his flowers. “You can go. I’ll deliver it to your store tomorrow morning.”</p>
<p>“You sure?”</p>
<p>This might not be a good idea- on one hand, he <em>wants</em> Geralt to visit him, but on the other, it’ll only prolong the inevitable slow death of this not-thing they have. Geralt, as far as he can tell, is immune to flirting, but Jaskier will be damned if he doesn’t give it a shot.</p>
<p>He’s in luck- Geralt nods, absently, and Jaskier is free to go about the rest of his day thinking about him. <em>Not </em>obsessing. </p>
<p>Definitely not. </p>
<p>It’s not his fault that he falls fast. He always has, always will. It’s not his fault that Geralt is handsome and sweet and surprisingly funny. </p>
<p>Usually, it wouldn’t be a problem. Usually, it’d just be a one-night stand, maybe a few dates. Usually, Jaskier doesn’t fall for someone because their eyes sparkle when they recite facts about flowers. </p>
<p>Usually, they don’t own businesses right next to each other, making the potential fallout very awkward. He’s not willing to dissolve his store and burgeoning local music career because of some poorly planned affair with a weirdly muscular florist. </p>
<p>He knows the drill, knows that he’ll get over it eventually. Maybe he’ll get lucky and fall for someone else, someone without strings attached. Maybe he’ll hire a gardener to take care of the succulents he’s going to buy- following Geralt’s advice- and hope they’re charming. </p>
<p>He resolves to move on, and the resolution lasts approximately a day. Right up until he spends the night tossing and turning with a song stuck in his head, begging to be brought to life. He gives up a few hours before his alarm goes off, snatching his journal from his night stand and jotting down what looks like a fully formed song. It’s bad, it’s cheesy, it’s <em>obvious</em>. The imagery- a wolf and flowers- barely makes sense.</p>
<p>Worst of all, he thinks he can work with it, as a rough draft. </p>
<p>...</p>
<p>Geralt is not sure why he’s standing in the waiting room of a tattoo parlor. That is, he knows why- he’s going to deliver Jaskier’s flowers- but he’s not sure <em>why</em> he suggested this, instead of just forcing Jaskier to wait. </p>
<p>Well, he technically knows that, too. Jaskier is loud and pushy and a little annoying but genuinely interested. Maybe it’s a low bar, but Geralt has met very few people who cared to hear about his interests- not even Yennefer can stand to talk about flowers, or bother to ask Geralt about them, not that they did all that much chatting when they were an item. </p>
<p>Jaskier talks a lot and can spin a conversation out of very little. It’s a relief to be able to talk as little as he prefers and still carry on a conversation. </p>
<p>From someone like Jaskier, Geralt expects to stop talking and look up to find him staring blankly, waiting to say his own piece. But Jaskier hangs onto every word Geralt says, asking follow ups where he can and carrying off into related tangents where he can’t. </p>
<p>He’d like to hang out with him again, if he’s honest. Some would say that’s enough. </p>
<p>Others- <em>Geralt</em> would need a practical excuse like, for example, a paid delivery of flowers. </p>
<p>“Sorry! We’re a bit short staffed today- hope you weren’t waiting long.” A blonde woman slides into the seat behind the front desk and smiles up at him, and at the flowers. “Can I help you?”</p>
<p>“I’m looking for Jaskier.” He lifts the flowers, hoping she gets the idea. </p>
<p>Her smile widens- certainly getting an idea, but likely not the one Geralt wanted her to. Before Geralt can correct her, she points. “He’s in room two, right over there.”</p>
<p>He can feel her watching him as he turns, sees her leaning over her desk out of the corner of his eye. The first time he goes anywhere but his store in months and he’s already generating gossip- Yennefer is going to have a field day when one of her spies sends this down the grapevine.</p>
<p>Jaskier is in room two, but doesn’t immediately notice Geralt enter. He’s got headphones on, music playing loud enough for Geralt to make out the tune, and he’s working on a notepad and a tablet- at the same time. He must be ambidextrous- a pencil in one hand and a stylus in the other- and his head jerks back and forth between sketching out a design in a drawing program and writing out lines of text on a lined page, already filled with other text and scratched out notes. </p>
<p>Geralt can’t read the writing, between the messy handwriting and his distance, but the drawing is easy to make out. It’s the profile of a white wolf surrounded by purple flowers, rendered in stunning illustrative detail. </p>
<p>Lupine- wolf flower. So he <em>was</em> listening. </p>
<p>It’s a hell of a coincidence- maybe that’s why Jaskier was interested, as part of a project he was stuck on. Still, he could’ve googled it, or stopped after one flower- Geralt shakes his head, trying to stop theorizing, since it’ll get him nowhere.</p>
<p>He clears his throat, a little too loudly, and Jaskier jolts, fumbling his tablet and barely catching it. Geralt reaches out to help, but gets there too late, leaving him uncomfortably close with no reason to be. Just to do <em>something</em>, he puts the flowers on Jaskier’s table, pretending that was his original intention. If he accidentally brushes Jaskier as he reaches over, no one is the wiser. </p>
<p>“Ah, they look wonderful. Thank you, really.” Jaskier puts down his work and takes the flowers, pulling them close enough to smell. “I feel like I should give you a delivery fee, or something.”</p>
<p>“I’m literally next door.”</p>
<p>“I know! But I could be keeping you away from other paying customers.”</p>
<p>Jaskier’s eyes are wide, earnest, and Geralt gives him the benefit of the doubt that he truly doesn’t realize he’s become Geralt’s second-best customer. </p>
<p>“It’s fine. It was,” he hesitates and glances around the room, settling on, “nice. To see your store.”</p>
<p><em>Nice</em> is a word to describe it. This room serves as Jaskier’s portfolio- the walls are covered in prints of his designs, all in the same vibrant, illustrative style of the wolf. They’re beautiful, a clear extension of Jaskier’s personality. </p>
<p>Jaskier grins, then his smile softens, with his voice, “That’s kind of you to say, Geralt. If not very creative.”</p>
<p>Geralt shrugs, as if to say <em>I’m not a very creative guy</em>. He thinks Jaskier gets the message- he always seems to. It’s time for him to leave, and let Jaskier get back to work, but he looks around for an excuse to stay longer. He lands on the tablet, sitting beside the flowers. </p>
<p>“Who’s that for?” It’s an offhanded question- he doesn’t care, but it’s conversation, and he’s trying.</p>
<p>Jaskier freezes, both hands stilling. “It’s, uh- just practice.”</p>
<p>It doesn’t <em>look</em> like practice. It’s massive, intricate and the photoshop file has twenty different layers, at a glance. Then again, Geralt knows fuck all about art. It could be normal, for all he knows. </p>
<p>“It looks good. You nailed the flowers.”</p>
<p>He doesn’t know why he said that. It’s the truth- Jaskier is, without question, a good artist- but Geralt doesn’t go around complimenting people he hardly knows. Or people he does know, for that matter. </p>
<p>Then, Jaskier smiles- bold and brilliant, like he did at the shop, while Geralt explained dozens of flowers for him. <em>Ah. That’s why. </em></p>
<p>“You mean it?”</p>
<p>“I have no reason to lie. You clearly paid attention, yesterday.”</p>
<p>Jaskier beams and Geralt has to look away- it’s like the <em>sun</em>, gods. There’s a brief pause and Jaskier stands, prompting Geralt to look back at him. </p>
<p>“You know,” Jaskier starts, cautious, “this place is great, but I could do with a change of pace. Flowers have been popular lately- maybe I could visit your store once in a while, for unique reference?”</p>
<p>It’s a bad idea, an invitation for someone to invade his space, someone loud and annoying and- </p>
<p>Nice. It should be enough- people tell him it’s enough, to just be around people you like, and who like you. </p>
<p>Maybe he’ll try to take their advice, for once. </p>
<p>He nods and lets Jaskier convince him to hang around a while longer, pouring through his sketches and asking for unneeded advice- he brings up anything that has even a hint of flower, for Geralt’s reference.</p>
<p>If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Jaskier was looking for an excuse to make him stay.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>It’s reached the point that Jaskier has become a permanent fixture in Geralt’s store. At odd times, between his appointments and concerts, Jaskier perches himself on a stool and doodles flowers, talking aloud to himself or Geralt or the flowers. Geralt half-listens for the occasional question, or joke, to react to, but mostly, it fades into pleasant background noise.  </p>
<p>He’s also started bringing his guitar to test out songs, on the quieter days. Geralt almost draws the line there, but it’s not as obnoxious as he predicts and Jaskier keeps it low, muttering the lyrics and only testing out a few chords at a time.</p>
<p>The first few times turn out to be a test run- following those, without incident or complaint from Geralt, Jaskier brings his guitar every day. He composes as often as he draws, always creating, always inspired. The name plates of flowers get decorated with their own mini-portraits and Jaskier sits outside on Valentine’s Day, playing a jingle he wrote that makes Geralt want to deafen himself- but he can’t deny it brings business.</p>
<p>He still buys flowers semi-regularly, asking for increasingly ridiculous arrangements, just to see if Geralt can do it. Geralt delivers them while Jaskier is working, definitely giving the receptionist the wrong impression. He realizes he’s not worried about correcting her.</p>
<p>Yennefer tells him he should just start bringing Jaskier flowers- as a gift, a casual romantic gesture. It feels at once way too easy, and way too daunting. Maybe he just doesn’t understand how this works (Yennefer assures him that is absolutely the reason).</p>
<p>Nonetheless, he can’t bring himself to upset their peaceful coexistence, so he lets Jaskier keep coming over, and keeps delivering flowers. He tells himself he doesn’t need more, not if he’d have to risk what he already has.</p>
<p>Another step, a new <em>thing</em>, is complicated. Not as easy as Yennefer, or… anyone else says it is.</p>
<p>Jaskier rarely comes to the counter, since there aren’t as many flowers there, but he does today, hopping up to sit beside the register, where Geralt is organizing papers. “Hey, can I ask your opinion on something?”</p>
<p>“If you must.”</p>
<p>“Do you think it’s classless to buy something from someone, and then gift it to them? Even if it’s at a later date?”</p>
<p>Geralt raises an eyebrow and looks up at Jaskier- but Jaskier is looking away, towards the windows. “You’d just be gifting them money.”</p>
<p>“Do you think <em>that’s</em> classless?” Jaskier’s eyes cut back to Geralt, raising his own eyebrows. </p>
<p>“No.” Geralt pauses- that’s probably the wrong answer, but he’s the dug this hole, so, “Everybody likes money.”</p>
<p>“Fantastic, in that case,” Jaskier slaps down some twenties on the counter, “I’d like a bouquet of <em>your</em> favorite flowers.”</p>
<p>It takes a second to process that. Then another second to come up with a response- and a bad one, at that. </p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>Jaskier scoffs and laughs. “Have you looked in the mirror? You’re handsome, funny, and passionate about what you do. I’d love to spend more time with you, without pretense.”</p>
<p>It’s that easy, he supposes. </p>
<p>Well, almost that easy. There’s still-</p>
<p>“What time?”</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>It gets even easier, miraculously. One movie night leads to another, one dinner becomes a weekly event, one late night turns into waking up in each other’s arms. </p>
<p>It all culminates into Geralt going to one of Jaskier’s concerts. Jaskier insists that he doesn’t have to - he knows Geralt doesn’t like crowds, doesn’t like loud music, doesn’t like people- but Geralt’s put it off so long that he feels like has to now, so he’s here. </p>
<p>He’ll admit that it’s not his scene, but he likes to see Jaskier in his element. </p>
<p>Jaskier shines on stage, lit up with more energy than usual- which is already a lot. He borrows from his audience, letting his chorus be lifted up by their voices. A lot of the words, and the overall message, are lost on Geralt, without knowing the lyrics beforehand, but Jaskier has a way of making anything sound emotional, meaningful. Geralt understands now why Jaskier insists on tea when he gets back from concerts; Geralt doesn’t know how Jaskier isn’t completely hoarse, after all this.</p>
<p>He can’t wait to get home and make dinner, maybe watch a movie. It hits him that he’s been thinking that a <em>lot</em> lately. Waiting to make dinner with Jaskier, laughing through pasta tutorials and ending up ordering instead, waiting for Jaskier to pick a movie, arguing over his terrible taste, waiting to go <em>home, </em>wherever Jaskier is.</p>
<p>When did it become <em>home</em>?</p>
<p>It’s a strange thought, the answer lying somewhere in the nebulous period between tolerating Jaskier and wanting Jaskier. It wasn’t hard with Yen- he knew what he liked about her, and what she liked about him- but with Jaskier, it’s harder to pin down the odd sense of loss he feels every time Jaskier leaves for the day and the warm feeling he gets every time Jaskier promises to come back.</p>
<p>All he knows is that he’s happy when Jaskier is around, and the other complicated stuff matters less and less every day. Jaskier makes it look effortless, so he tries to copy him, concentrating on the moment and not worrying about what’s to come. For now, he focuses on Jaskier’s last song, Jaskier’s sequined jacket shining in the spotlights, and Jaskier’s smile, aimed directly at Geralt.</p>
<p>Once he’s done, Jaskier mingles with the audience for a while- the venue is small, but packed, and he has to push through what’s quickly amounting to a mob to get to Geralt. Geralt is only saved from overcrowding by standing in the very back and putting on a scowl that he’s been told is “completely terrifying” and “inappropriate for society”. Jaskier doesn’t seem to mind it.</p>
<p>Geralt lets Jaskier pull him outside to stand in the parking lot, the space in the back that Geralt likes, for its privacy and the reduced risk to his car. Roach has been a fixture of Geralt’s life for a long time- he refuses to replace it, preferring to go to lengths to get it fixed. Jaskier thinks it’s adorable, a rare occurrence of sentimentality in Geralt’s life- which, Geralt insists, is untrue; it’s simply easier, more practical, to make this car work than it would be to adjust to a new one.</p>
<p>Jaskier hops up on its hood- reminding Geralt why he usually makes Jaskier find his own ride. He grins at Geralt, confident, like he knows Geralt won’t make him get down, or complain about boot marks, because he’s too fond of him.</p>
<p>He’s not wrong.</p>
<p>“Well?” Jaskier starts, leaning forward on his hands, elbows propped on his knees. From where Geralt’s standing, he can see new tattoos peeking over the edge of Jaskier’s collar, a bouquet of flowers blooming at the base of his skull. “How was it?”</p>
<p><em>The show</em>, Geralt translates for himself. Jaskier is, frustratingly, a fan of non-sequiturs- which is only ever a problem on the rare occasions he actually expects a response.</p>
<p>“Loud.”</p>
<p>Jaskier stretches to kick Geralt in the shin, in retribution. He can’t quite reach, and pouts at Geralt, like he expects him to shuffle forward to be kicked. “Come on, you must have <em>some</em> review.”</p>
<p>“Of course.” Geralt rolls his eyes and pushes Jaskier to make room to sit next to him. There’s not enough space, and he ends up awkwardly half-sitting on the hood, but it gets him closer to Jaskier, which is his only real goal. “I’ll just use my extensive knowledge of music to write you an analysis.”</p>
<p>“That’s the spirit. I want to hear your favorite, and a breakdown on its core theme, melody, and rhyme scheme.”</p>
<p>Geralt pauses, trying to think of a legitimate answer. Jaskier is just teasing- he knows Geralt is hopeless with these things- but Geralt did try to listen, so he might as well give him <em>something</em>. </p>
<p>“I liked the one about the white wolf. Reminded me of your drawing.”</p>
<p>Jaskier blinks, surprised, and flushes. “Why that one, in particular?”</p>
<p>Geralt shrugs- he didn’t anticipate having to back up his response. Honestly, it was the first song he could remember, in the haze of loud music and half-heard lyrics. The tune, as he recalls, was tolerable; he figured if Jaskier took him seriously, it wouldn’t be too irritating to hear again and again. He hopes there wasn’t a weird, deeper meaning that he missed entirely.</p>
<p>Maybe he should listen next time Jaskier tries to teach him about music. He’s aware, on some level, that his inability to keep up with even a basic chorus is on par with Jaskier’s inability to keep even the hardiest plants alive.</p>
<p>“I just liked the tune.” He redirects, hoping to distract, if not recover, “You never did tell me who that drawing was for.”</p>
<p>Jaskier breaks into a grin, for no reason Geralt can discern. He puts an arm around Geralt’s waist and pulls himself in closer- nearly making them both lose their balance in the process. They’re in a dark, dingy parking lot, on their way to a small apartment and a mediocre dinner, but Geralt can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.</p>
<p>“Maybe one day I’ll clue you in. On a completely unrelated note, are you interested in getting a tattoo?”</p>
<p>...</p>
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<p>Art by @FancyKryptonite on tumblr, instagram, twitter and like... everything. Check her out!</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've somehow never done one of these AUs before, but I feel like it's a rite of passage as a fanfic author. I'm glad I was able to do it with our boys- mostly just because I like the idea of a heavily tattooed Jaskier. </p>
<p>I'll be the first to admit that this isn't a realistic depiction of a florist or tattoo artist, but luckily this is fanfiction and I'm not really here to write realism. Fluff and tropes come first, that's the law of the land.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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